


Ring of Thorns

by feignedsobriquet, tisfan



Series: Tony Stark Bingo [50]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Space, Bunnies, M/M, Pre-Slash, a truly ridiculous number of rabbits, sassy banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feignedsobriquet/pseuds/feignedsobriquet, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Ship’s log: Stardate 5239.281.5Woke from hypersleep on schedule -- thank you JARVIS.“You are welcome, sir.”For Tony Stark Bingo, card # 3023, S3 - Science and Magic
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) & Tony Stark
Series: Tony Stark Bingo [50]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1030077
Comments: 157
Kudos: 278
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	1. Fluid Transfer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gayspacesprinkles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gayspacesprinkles/gifts).



> art from gayspacesprinkles! isn't it great?!

**Ship’s log: Stardate 5239.281.5**

Woke from hypersleep on schedule -- thank you JARVIS. 

“You are welcome, sir.”

The Ring of Thorns is about two days on the sublight engines, which should give me plenty of time to make any course corrections. Course corrections. I say that like anyone has any idea where the best entrance is to the Ring. Several thousand cloaked glass arrows, left over from a war three centuries ago.

JARVIS’s records indicate that a single glass arrow has the explosive capacity to knock a good sized hole in the _Malibu_ , which I have to say, is not an ideal solution. Even with crude calculations of where the bombs were originally seeded -- and let me tell you, that particular chart was not easy to procure -- we don’t know how much stellar drift has moved them. Dozens of ships have tried to fly into the Ring.

All have been, thus far, unsuccessful.

Pieces of the wreckage will add to the difficulty of successfully navigating the field.

I want it noted for the record, if I don’t succeed, I want you to tell Captain Amer -- no scratch that. I always know what I’m doing. This plan I’m gonna try and pull off tomorrow, it's got me scratching my head about the survivability of it all. What am I even tripping for? Everything's gonna workout exactly the way it's supposed to.

**Stardate 5239.282.9**

“Set for separation, J?”

“We are set, sir,” JARVIS said. He was the ship’s AI, navigation, piloting, engineering, physician. He served to take the place several key members of a ship’s crew. He was not, however, supposed to be the only other crewmate on a ship the size of the _Malibu_.

He was, because no one believed Mr. Stark that they could make it through the ring to whatever treasure planet was tucked away inside it.

JARVIS went because he was an AI and because Mr. Stark was his maker. But even if JARVIS had entire free will and he had _some_ , because he was the one steering the ship, he probably wouldn’t have done anything differently. He could have refused to take Mr. Stark at all. _Probably_. He’d never really tried directly rebelling, and sometimes when he was feeling philosophical, he wondered if that was because he couldn’t rebel, or because Mr. Stark had not been wrong yet, and thus, rebelling was a waste of time. 

Mr. Stark would, after all, prove everyone wrong.

And JARVIS wanted to be there, to record all of it.

Truthfully, JARVIS himself wasn’t at risk; he had two backup units hidden away. But if something happened to this version, well, the story would never be told. And he couldn’t have that, could he?

“Remember, sir, close--”

“But not too close, I got it. We got this. Launch the dummy section.”

“Piloting remotely,” JARVIS said. He separated the dummy section of the ship, broad and ugly with the best forward shields that money could buy. He should know. He’d purchased them. And then Mr. Stark had improved them.

The dummy section looked like, in all honesty, like a flying brick. But that was all right. All it had to do was shield the smaller craft behind it. 

“Let’s plow the road, JARVIS,” Mr. Stark said.

“As you say, sir.”

**Stardate 5239.282.11**

“Well, that could have been worse,” Tony said. He was breathing hard, and his hands were shaking. Sweat dripped down the back of his flight suit. But he was alive.

He landed the smaller, more maneuverable craft inside the docking ring.

“Allow me to inform you, sir, there are four glass arrows affixed to the hull--”

“You just have to ruin my moment,” Tony complained. “Can I get a countdown, or is that too much to ask?” He was already unlocking his piloting harness, grabbed a stim patch on his way past the console -- he’d need to be on his mettle if he was going to disarm bombs without detonating them instead and all the juice from his hectic ride through the Ring had dissipated.

“They are quiescent, at the moment, sir,” JARVIS told him. “But core deterioration suggests they are not supposed to be in an atmosphere with oxygen, and they will explode soon enough.”

“Wait, there’s life support in the hanger?” 

“It would appear so, sir.”

“ _Why_?” The Ring of Thorns had been in place for several hundred years at least. There was no reason for life support to still be functional.

“I shan’t hazard a guess at this remove,” JARVIS said. 

“Can we vent the docking bay?” Tony had more than enough O2 in his suit, as he hadn’t been expecting any such systems to still be in place.

“No, sir,” JARVIS said. “I was able to override the security systems to get us inside by claiming emergency repairs. The system will not let us out until the proper codes have been entered. As well as sudden venting often disrupts seemingly stationary objects--”

“Yeah, yeah, no need to turn the room into a pinball machine. All right, I’m on it.”

Tony had removed three of the bombs -- truly elegant, lethal little things. They were no bigger than two fingers wide and about four times as long, concealed by a mirror-shield that bent light around it, showing up as flecks of black and the occasional flash of light in a starfield. No propellant, no heat reading, not even any traceable particles emissions. Old school explosives. Not quite all the way back to pipebombs with horseshoe nails mixed in, but still. Household chemicals.

Ions only knew what the people who made them were thinking when they mixed them up and set them loose in space to guard their station and their planet.

They were all dead, at least.

Theoretically. No one could get close enough to tell.

“Uh, sir,” JARVIS said. “You have company. Turn around very slowly.”

Tony didn’t quite raise his hands, but he was expecting to see someone armed and presumably dangerous.

What he saw instead was-- an animal? With white and tan fur covering its entire body, including a set of very long ears. Red eyes peered at him curiously and the creature took a few hopping steps closer.

“JARVIS,” Tony muttered, keeping his eyes on the creature, “what is it?”

“A Lagomorpha, particularly a subset of Leporidae. Known as oryctolagus cuniculus domesticus, or more commonly, a _bunny rabbit_.”

“Does it eat-- meat?” Tony was an awfully big meal, but as he watched the-- rabbit-- carefully, he noticed there were more.

A _lot_ more.

“I daresay, sir, unless the species has evolved along another path,” JARVIS said, “they are primarily interested in grasses, fruits, and vegetables. A garden pest, as they were described in older zoology reports. And, to some degree, a pet.”

“People pet them?” Tony wondered, looking around. They were fluffy and sort of cute. Some of them sat up on their hind legs to look closer at Tony.

“Other people raised them for food and fur stock,” JARVIS continued.

Tony took a step forward and the lead rabbit thumped his foot several times against the deck plating. Other rabbits took up the signal and stamped as well, until the entire facility was ringing like being inside a drum.

Tony found himself on the floor, hands clapped over his ears. By the time the noise stopped, three or four of the bunnies were very close to Tony, noses wiggling curiously. One of them hopped all the way up to him, put a soft paw on his knee and poked its face directly at his chin.

“I’m not made of food,” Tony told it, and he went to shoo it away, but he touched it instead.

Oh. Oh, it was so soft. Oh, Ions, so soft. He let himself sit down, let them hop up to him, sniffing curiously.

“It seems they have never seen a human, either, sir,” JARVIS commented.

“Do, uh, we have anything we could feed them? What are they even eating around here?”

“A closer look at the scans, sir,” JARVIS said, “the hydroponics bays seem to have overrun most of the station. They’ve been living in a perfect bunny paradise. All the food they could want, and no predators.”

“Sounds lovely,” Tony said, and one of the bunnies hopped into his lap and proceeded to turn around a few times before flopping over and going to sleep. “Although, gotta say, a cargo bay of rabbits wasn’t what I was hoping to find.”

Riches, technological artifacts, answers. _Especially_ answers. What had happened here, why had the people gone silent, or died? Why did they leave behind such elaborate traps?

“We could set up a fur trade, sir,” JARVIS suggested and Tony could have sworn that every single bunny in the room gave him the stink eye. All at once. It was chilling. 

“Yeeaaah, think I’m gonna go with no on that one, JARVIS,” Tony said. “Do you think there’s anyway to explain kaboom to them, because if I don’t get that last glass arrow off the hull, we’re all going to be in the fur trade.”

“You neglected to add lapine language skills to my databanks, sir,” JARVIS said.

“Smart ass AI,” Tony muttered, nudging the black bunny out of his lap. “Shoo. Go fetch. Something. Do you fetch? Yeah, go… go find a-- what to rabbits eat?”

“Strictly speaking, their diet is a mix of alfalfa and--”

“Whatever. Go… have a smoothie. Look, if you go into the galley on my ship, DUM-E will make you smoothies, go go.”

They didn’t go go or shoo shoo, but they did back up a little or hopped away as he stood up. He had to watch his feet as he moved back over to the ship, grabbing for the wrench. “Switch it up, JARVIS,” he said, and JARVIS triggered the color changing squares on the outside of the ship, one at a time, until Tony could physically locate the glass arrow, and only because he was looking really closely. The arrow changed colors, too, but at a slightly -- very slightly -- slower rate.

And then Tony was able to find it by touch, sliding his hand over the panel until he encountered a small projection. 

Once removed from the ship, the colors swirled again until what Tony held in his hands was flesh and floor and bunny colored. The biologics didn’t blend as easily, they weren’t mathematical or predictable, so once he had it away from the hull, it was a lot easier to look at. 

For something called a glass arrow, it was neither. More like a flat, thin package with a few grooves at each end. Not really accurate, but evocative, the imagery, he meant. Twisting the tail end, he slowly removed the detonation packet, wrapped in hyper thin plastics. Once that package was out, the arrow itself was rendered mostly harmless. Except that Tony would feel better getting all of it off the ship. 

He found a couple of rolling bins in the docking bay, emptied them of the tools they contained, and then loaded the explosives into them. “Can I space this shit, or is the airlock broken, too?”

“The south side airlock appears fully functional, sir,” JARVIS told him. Tony grabbed a couple of remote-automatics and affixed them to the sides of the bins. Station gravity would eventually grab anything floating in proximity to the station; it had taken quite a few murderers getting caught before they realized you could not, in fact, just junk a body out an airlock.

But you could fire one into the nearest star. Which is what the remote-automatics were for. Small, one shot of fuel, affixable to a trash or discarded object -- or even at some of the largest ring world systems, to move supplies through space -- to propel them away. Once in motion, they’d stay in motion until a larger gravity well swallowed them up.

“Bombs away,” Tony said, setting the bins into the airlock. He sealed the inner door, opened the outer door, and then flew the trash off into space. The nearest star was several weeks away by sub light propulsion. Unless it hit a few of its cousins while out there, in which case, he could expect a pretty pretty boom in a few hours.

“Always so observant, sir,” JARVIS said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said, pushing away from the porthole. “You got anything for me yet?”

“Their mainframe systems are so old as to be little better than hand-cranked automobiles, sir,” JARVIS said. “I’m having difficulty navigating their systems without overwhelming them. That said, the system suggests you might find an interpreter on the eighth deck, C-section.”

“I am not delivering a baby on this station,” Tony swore and chuckled to himself. It wouldn’t take JARVIS that long to find the reference -- it had always been a bit of a challenge with them. Could Tony, in fact, find a historical or cultural reference so old that JARVIS didn’t have access to it.

So far the answer had always been no.

Tony grabbed several tools to help him around the ship; a crowbar for opening unruly doors, as well as more electronic overrides. MagmaTorch, if he had to go through the door. 

The vegetation was even thicker in the hallways. “Where are the plants getting food from?” Because really, dirt was a thing, even if Tony didn’t like standing on it. There was a thick coating of moss on the floor in places, and Tony found himself stepping around it. He did squat down long enough to take a sample, and send it off to JARVIS to analyze. 

“Sample shows a flourishing, if unusual, ecosystem, sir,” JARVIS told him. “The sample appears to be similar to compost. Organic waste, sir.”

“Rabbit shit?”

“It’s likely the first plants would have started in the hydroponics area; if they outgrew their containers, they would have likely encountered fertilizer and soil samples there. My map of the station shows that system-recycling was only a deck below.”

“Old human shit,” Tony rephrased.

“And bodies that weren’t spaced, food waste, biological waste.” Many places stored that up, condensed into cubes, packed into bags, and then sold to terraforming colonies. Probably the same sort of idea. It was being used for its intended purpose, then, if not necessarily its intended place. “The ship’s lighting system has stayed on, providing material for photosynthesis. Since the late twenty-fifth century all human space-going vehicles utilize solar lamps to prevent crew depression, mood swings, and the inability to digest certain foods.”

“Yeah, we’re made for gravity and sunlight,” Tony said. He paused to force a door to the companionway. The ladders stretched up and down several levels, slightly offset to prevent a bad fall from becoming a fatal flaw. Smart. “So they’re not in any immediate danger of being wiped out?”

“The power banks are currently still at half capacity. With such a slow rate of decay, even without intelligent interference, this colony could continue on without problems for another three or four hundred years.”

“What are they using to power this place?” 

JARVIS continued to analyze the station, providing more and more obscure data and facts. Frankly, Tony stopped entirely listening. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested, but there were also interesting things--

He stopped in a long hallway with doors spaced equally, and pushed one open. Crew quarters, right? Had to be…

The room was empty. Not just of crew, he really was not expecting a skeleton -- or maybe he was -- but also of artifacts. It was just empty. Bed cubby with no mattress, desk with no terminal or ports. Closet with no clothes.

“People did used to live here, didn’t they?”

“Records suggest that this station had a population of approximately twenty-thousand human beings at the time that contact with the greater galaxy ended.”

“What the hell happened to twenty-thousand people? I mean, even if the rabbits ate them--”

“Let me remind you, sir, that rabbits are primarily vegetarian,” JARVIS said.

“Thanks, you might need to keep reminding me of that--”

He wasn’t going to be able to close that door again, since a handful of rabbits had followed him in, and he wasn’t sure how to get them out again. They didn’t really seem like herd creatures to him. And while they’d been surviving perfectly well on their own, he didn’t really want them to starve to death because of him. Right?

It was a working theory, at least. No rabbit murdering.

He made it all the way to 8th-deck, Section C. Finally. Plants. A lot of them, too. And more rabbits. 

“What exactly am I looking for here?” Tony wondered. He pushed his way through thicker plants, almost jungle-like in their sheer stubbornness to give way.

“I might say you’ll know it when you see it, sir,” JARVIS said, “which would be quite helpful, since I’m entirely uncertain--”

“Oh.”

 _That_.

**Stardate 5239.283.02**

“I don’t believe the situation is going to change, no matter how long you keep staring,” JARVIS commented.

“Sarcastic, I like that.”

“I know that, sir.”

“Still. This is not something I want to jump into right away. I mean, when the station AI--”

“It’s not an AI sir, the station’s computer systems are significantly less advanced in all ways--”

“Don’t be petty. It’s beneath you.”

“As I don’t, in fact, have a corporeal body, sir, you might add that everything is beneath me. Or nothing is beneath me. An interesting question for the next time you feel philosophical.”

“Which does not answer any of my current philosophical questions,” Tony said. “Like who is this guy, why is he asleep in that thing, and will he die immediately if we try to wake him up?”

“Probably not immediately,” JARVIS said. “He’s hardly a vampire and going to poof into dust at exposure to sunlight.”

“What?”

“I beg your pardon sir, I was looking up some of the various mythology typical to this station at the time. Did you know they believed the whole place was cursed?”

“Of course they did,” Tony said. “Also, why would I know that? How could I possibly know that-- cursed? What even does cursed mean?”

“A curse is the belief that powerful entities can take an interest in humans,” JARVIS said. “Faeries, witches, demigods and deities, for example. When these humans do something wrong, or offensive, or are in some cases, just being used as scapegoats for a powerful creature, that leads to a curse. A series of misfortunes that cannot be averted, except by a single act. Sometimes it’s ridiculously complicated, _like when the moon loses her child if it happens in a week when two Mondays come together._ And sometimes, all that takes to break a curse is true love’s first kiss.”

“Like that’s not complicated,” Tony complained. “So you’re saying I should kiss the guy awake to break the curse?”

“Much in the case of a week with two Mondays, sir,” JARVIS said, “you might want to take into consideration that your blood and cells are filled with--”

“ _Aesculapian nanintes_ ,” Tony breathed. Which repaired injuries, protected him from disease and posion, and vastly extended his life span. Most infants born on Tony’s planet inherited some of them from their parents, but often required a booster injection every twenty years. And, in emergencies, you could share your nanintes with someone else, to heal their wounds.

Tony had gotten a booster shot last year, on his fortieth birthday, which meant his system was currently in top form.

“The fastest way to share nanites--”

“Is fluid transfer.”

“A _kiss_ ,” Tony corrected, directing a smug smile in no particular direction. JARVIS could see him.

“Indeed, sir, I’m so glad you thought of it.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Flounder,” JARVIS responded. “Badly.”

“ _Wow_ , you didn’t even hesitate with that one.”

Tony studied the casing a little while longer. The man was dressed entirely in white, except for a black cap where his left arm had been, he had long hair and just a hint of a beard. If Tony had to guess, he’d say the man had gone into some sort of healing tube while a replacement limb was vat-grown for him. Nanites could mend split skin and broken bones, but it wasn’t much good at regrowing parts entirely.

But Tony didn’t see any sort of vat system at all. Maybe they kept that somewhere else.

Theoretically, Tony’s nanites would keep the man alive, long enough to ask some questions, to find the bioregen chambers, or their historical equivalent. Get some answers, provide some aid. Something.

And, also, very quietly, to himself, where even JARVIS couldn’t hear him.

Tony might actually want to kiss the man.

He was stunningly, almost shockingly beautiful. His cheeks were just perfect, and the chin, with the hint of a cleft. Full, kissable lips, parted just a little. Long lashes. Tony didn’t know what color his eyes were, but he liked to think they were blue. Tony felt like he could see… everything.

“Sir?”

“Yeah?”

“Your brain is producing an increased amount of vasopressin, adrenaline, dopamine, and oxytocin.”

“Yeah?”

“And I believe you are experiencing mydriasis-- it’s a nerve reaction that causes your pupils to dilate,” JARVIS went on.

“Which means what?”

“Quite honestly, sir,” JARVIS said. “I think you are, as the poets would say, _falling in love_.”

“Yeah?” Tony found he didn’t quite care. It was almost like being drunk, a warm, fuzzy sort of feeling that just, made him generally happy. He wanted to share that with someone. A very specific someone.

He wasn’t sure how he knew which button to push, but the top of the tube slid away, and the man inside took a slow, stuttering breath.

“It’s all right,” Tony told him. “I’m here to rescue you.”

He leaned in, mouth open slightly, and kissed the man he hadn’t even really met. It was more than love at first meeting, it was--

A very nice kiss, warm, soothing, soft, with just a little heat in it.

The man pulled away, licked his lips as if tasting Tony on them and gazed up at him. “Uh… aren’t you a little short to be a stormtrooper?”

“What?” Tony blinked, then blinked again. “How-- how do you know _Star Wars_? That is _Star Wars_ you’re quoting, right, late 20th century cinema? I-- I’m a--”

The man struggled to sit, and Tony helped him until he could swing his legs over the side. “So, uh, question-- who are you, and why is there a rabbit on top of my stasis tube?”

“Um, my name is Tony Stark,” Tony said.

“Bucky Barnes,” the man said. “Uh, nice to meet you. Great kiss by the way, hell of a wake up call. Is my unit waiting for me--”

“Uh, no, no, probably not.”

Bucky stared around the room, from the bunny to the greenery to the bunny, and then back to Tony. “How long? How long was I asleep?”

“I can’t say exactly, but-- it’s been at least three hundred years since we last had contact with this station.”

“Oh.” Bucky took a deep breath, and then another one, and a third. “Oh. I guess… I guess she won.”

“Who? Who did this to you? What happened here?”

“Hydra did this to me. Mother of serpents and dragons. A witch. It’s a long story.”

“I-- don’t think there’s any such thing as witches,” Tony said, hesitantly.

“Oh, there are,” Bucky said. “Believe me. There are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stop screaming. part two is already in the works


	2. The Works

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been his last act, getting the sleep-pods onto the ship and launching it, the whole time, holding Hydra at bay, keeping her here, keeping her distracted.
> 
> And then she’d struck, casting some evil magic over him, over--
> 
> He couldn’t remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Card: 3023  
> Fill: R2 - Hydra Won (swapped square)

¬░▒╛┐z░¬ date ┴╗╣⌐g__d morning soldier ▒¬º╖ç

The old AI wasn’t working. 

Which had been the plan, Barnes, get it together. 

The man above him -- well next to him now that Bucky had sat up -- was something like a vision. They exchanged names, greetings. The man. Tony. Had asked some questions.

Bucky’s lips were warm. Tingling. 

Tony had kissed him. To wake him up. To break the spell.

“Hydra won,” Bucky said. He wasn’t even sure he was speaking out loud, but he must have, because Tony was responding.

“That’s long since over,” Tony said. “There’s no Hydra anywhere in this sector.”

“She’s sleeping, because I was sleeping,” Bucky said. “I shut her down by shutting myself down. She might be back.”

“I didn’t see anyone else on this ship, except you and an awful lot of rabbits.”

“Rabbits?” Kobik had had some pet rabbits; a whole hutch of them. Part of the experiment. Could a space station become truly self-sufficient? The answer still looked like no, but some hutch and farm animals did function pretty well. There’d been goats at one time, too, but in the last days of the war, Bucky thought they’d all been eaten.

“They’re all over the place. My AI tells me they’re rabbits. I’ve never seen one, honestly.”

“Where th’ hell’d you grow up you ain’t never seen a rabbit,” Bucky wondered.

“I did mention the part about three hundred years, right?”

“Right, yeah,” Bucky said. “Uh, is there anything to eat?”

“There’s some mealpacks back at my ship,” Tony offered. “But unless your stuff is in permastore, I don’t think anything from here will be safe.”

“Water?”

Tony pulled out a canteen. That, at least, hadn’t changed much in form or function for centuries. Spout to put liquids in or to drink from, a standard filtration system, and a strap to carry it with. Why improve on something that was already perfect? Filters would, of course, adapt over time to whatever contaminants were in the water. “Human physiology hasn’t changed all that much,” Tony said. “I don’t think my filters will hurt you. But you have to be careful. Don’t drink from a Centurian’s canteen. They add in a lot of stims and endorphins to their water. Warrior race, but it gives the rest of us a twitchy stomach.”

“Good to know,” Bucky said. “How will I know who they are?”

“Don’t worry, they’ll usually tell you,” Tony joked. “They’re blue-skinned marsupials, with a red crown of-- head spikes, for lack of a better word.”

“Marsupials?”

“They carry their young around in a stomach pouch until they’re old enough to walk around. It’s a convenient arrangement,” Tony said. 

“Okay, then,” Bucky said. He took a few sips of Tony’s water and then returned it to him. The nanites in his system would filter anything harmful out, and if he could eat soon enough, would get him back to fighting fit. Otherwise, he might possibly go into a cyber coma. He didn’t see the need to alarm Tony just yet. It wasn’t urgent. “We can check the mess, see if there’s any supplements left. They won’t go bad.”

Worst case, he could probably chase down one of the rabbits and skin it for food. 

The whole station was both dead and alive at the same time. The hydroponics bay had escaped containment; there were vines and plants everywhere.

They’d probably grown, at least somewhat, in the remains of the dead. Bucky shuddered. 

The rabbit colony hopped in and out of the dense plant growth. Unafraid, and why would they be? A rabbit only lived nine or ten years. There had been generations of them, since they last saw humans.

“Did, uh, did the colony ship get away?” Bucky asked. 

It had been his last act, getting the sleep-pods onto the ship and launching it, the whole time, holding Hydra at bay, keeping her here, keeping her distracted.

And then she’d struck, casting some evil magic over him, over--

He couldn’t remember.

»£┼¬░▒-▒¿╟┼longing▒░┼╝º

“We never came across any ships from the Ring,” Tony said, as if apologizing, “but if you can give us mass and trajectory, I might be able to track it down for you.”

Sleep pods would last. If Bucky’s lasted, theirs would last.

He shook his head, wondering. Maybe they’d gotten out, maybe they’d gotten away. Away from Hydra, locked in her cold sleep with Bucky.

He wondered where she was.

She might still be on the station. He turned his gaze on Tony. That would be a strange form for her to take; Tony seemed sincere. But then, witches always _seemed_ sincere, didn’t they?

“Sir, I’m reading some strange energy spikes in the station,” a voice said, coming from-- from Tony.

“My AI,” Tony said, as if apologizing. “Anything hazardous, Jay?”

“Not as yet, but you might want to consider retreating in the next few hours. Radiation levels are rising.”

“What’s the plan with the bunnies?” Tony asked. “Can we evacuate them to a planet?”

“I’ve already sent out a beacon pod, locating the station. Hopefully it will be able to float through the Ring, and broadcast from there.”

“Good job.”

“Of course, sir.”

“You’re worried about the wildlife?” Bucky asked, incredulous. Definitely not the witch, then. She wouldn’t have cared about the life of a bug, beast, or boy.

“They’re alive,” Tony said. “There’s no point in killing them. We’ve got biologists back on the various Initiative ships that can relocate them somewhere that they won’t be an invasive species. Well, technically, they’ll be invasive, but a careful selection will make sure they will fit in with the local ecosystem. Worst comes to worst, we can sell them as pets and novelties on Knowhere Station.”

“We do have cargo space in the lower deck,” JARVIS pointed out, “if you’re not planning to salvage much.”

“Salvage, right,” Tony said, snapping his fingers. “I got so carried away by Sleeping Beauty here that I forgot I was looking for valuables. What say you, hot stuff? You got anything worth selling on this floating coffin? Split it with you, 50/50.”[]

¥ƒ▀¥▒╜┼┼pжавыйÉ»¥┼╟╞─rusted▒╗▓

Bucky shook his head. “I think it’s all salvage now, rules of the drift,” he said. “Do you have policy in place for survivors?”

Back in his day, anyone found on the drift in space -- hypersleep accidents happened often enough that people could outlive their assets, their grandkids, their governments -- that some effort was made to track down any remaining property, they got a six month high intensity sleep-learning degree, and sent off into the world with a small stipend.

Bucky’d known a couple of them. Steve Rogers had done a Big Sleep, seventy years or more. Gone to sleep as a Private, cook’s assistant during the war and woke up as a Captain through time in rank.

Strange thing, really. 

“You might be considered the longest standing prisoner of war,” Tony said. “Not that it matters, there’s a fortune to be had on this station. Split it with me, you won’t have to worry about it. This is all approved salvage. I have a license.”

He knew his way around the station, even with the plants and the rabbits. The rabbits were freaking him out a little; they kept following-- sticking their curious noses out of the underbrush. He wondered how they’d lived so long. Usually life support shut down when no one was breathing it.

Which meant Hydra had to be on the station somewhere.

“Why split it with me, then?” Bucky wondered. “License for salvage, you don’t need to--”

“Because I may be an asshole a lot of the time,” Tony said, “but I am not one hundred percent a dick.”

╜£Éëδ╗»╟┼╞─┬┴seventeen╜╝╗▒»▒┼

“If you want,” Bucky said. They finally made it to the messhall, and the sub-freeze was still reading green, so Bucky used his thumb print to open it. “I can recon some of these food packs.”

“You call this stuff food,” Tony said, incredulously. “You, my friend, you have been suffering. Recon has come so far since your day. Jay, can you dish up a four course for us?”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS said. 

“What’s considered a high value item?” Bucky wondered, picking out a few recon packs. He added water to the cooker, stuffed the packet in the slot and watched as the not-particularly interesting, but high calorie, high vitamin cereal poured itself into a reusable cup. The spoons were a little iffy, so Bucky added more water, and then drank it as a gruel. Yuck, but it would keep his systems intact for a while longer. Just a little while longer.

He just needed to know what happened to Hydra.

Where was she?

Not in the messhall, that was for sure.

Tony was still running down a list of items -- elements that could be repurposed. Titanium, protactinium, thorium. They’d had those in ample supply at one point. Potable water, preferably in ice form, which was easier to tow. 

“Wait, what was that last thing?”

“Etherium gas,” Tony said. “Might as well as for unobtainium, or wishalloy.”

“What, why?”

“As far as we know, stable etherium is a fantasy,” Tony said. “We’ve got plausible theories, but no one’s ever gotten a hold of the stuff before. I was spinning castles in space.”

“Um.”

╟S│ªS▒»░▒O1█┼daybreak▒»╟╗╣╕ë

“We have a tankful, at least,” Bucky said, “if nothing’s changed. That’s what we were mining, here--”

Tony was staring at him as if he’d said the moon really was made from green cheese.

“A-- let me get this straight. A tank. How much is in a tank?”

“It’s not really my department,” Bucky said, “but last I checked, about twenty thousand gallons of liquid etherium.”

Tony stopped moving, he seemed to stop _breathing_.

“I think we just became the richest men in the galaxy,” he said, finally. “Show me where this tank of yours is. Can we detach it for hauling?”

Bucky nodded. It was the gas, he thought. That attracted Hydra. She’d come because of the gas, and they’d fought her over the gas.

Witch.

Monster.

╟╗▒░ªÜfurnace▒»½▒╟┼╣

“Tony--” Bucky said, reaching out his hand. He caught hold of the other man’s wrist. “The gas--”

“Perfectly safe, cupcake,” Tony said. “We’ll make sure there’s no leaks, then we can just haul it away. Easy peasy, nice and cheesy.”

Bucky was pretty sure the phrase didn’t go that way.

And it wasn’t safe.

If Hydra was still on the station, that would be where she was.

Hibernating, maybe.

Or just waiting. _Lurking_. 

He wanted to speak, it was like he’d forgotten the words, and so instead of saying anything, he just turned and led Tony deeper into the station. Down into the Works, the mag-engines and the hydropods, the storage and the plumbing, the fuel cells. It was dark there, wet and heavy somehow. The plant life stopped, which wasn’t surprising, and while there were a few rabbits down this deep, they didn’t seem… normal.

Mutations, perhaps.

Bucky shuddered the thought away.

Tony had said he’d sent out a beacon.

Help-- someone could help them.

Maybe someone would come.

_I don’t have to run faster than Hydra, I just have to run faster than you._

Not true, and everyone knew it. Hydra was so fast. She was there before you even knew it. She wasn’t a sight, or something to touch. A witch, some sort of presence.

“Here,” Bucky said. “This is the shut off station. We’ll need to disconnect, and run diagnostics. That can take a few hours--”

“Don’t worry, Jarvis is already in the works, he’s a lot faster than your old systems,” Tony said. “We’ll be on our way back to civilization before you’re even sleepy.”

╟»▒░½Ü¢Ö▒»╟┼nine┼»Q▒»░▒╟┼

“Do you hear something,” Bucky said. He took a few steps down toward-- he didn’t even know. Something was down there. Calling him. Like a magnet that he was too pinlike to resist. A flame, to draw away a moth. It would burn him up, and he knew it, but he could not--

“Hey!” Tony’s hand was hard on his wrist, the fingernails biting lightly into his skin. “Hey, Bucky. You okay?”

“No, I don’t think I am,” Bucky said.

“Jay, how’s it look?”

“You may come back to the ship at any time, sir,” JARVIS said. “I can handle the disconnect from here.”

“Gotta be sleep-shock,” Tony was saying, “I’m so sorry, you seemed okay, let me just--”

Tony was leading him away. 

Away from answers.

Away from--

▒┼╟╗╦Ñ▒»╟benign▒┼╫D░▒½¬

“It’s all right, you don’t have to do anything else, I’ve got you,” Tony said.

And he did. Somehow, this man was… carrying Bucky. Like he was a sleepy child. Bucky blinked.

“Nanites,” Tony said. “They’re pretty amazing. I know you had ‘em back in your day, my scans show you’ve got some yourself. I think there’s something interfering with yours, though. Maybe they’re just old. We can do a filter, get you fixed up. It’s all right, just let me take care of you.”

That was nice, somehow. The idea of just letting go. Of letting Tony take care of things. Letting him take care…

Of Hydra.

Would it even be possible? That the witch could be defeated by something as simple and small as human technology?

“Jay, get me a stretcher, would you, buddy?” 

Bucky couldn’t see anything; everything was getting cold, frozen. His eyelids were frozen shut. Winter--

Winter was coming.

The winter. 

He remembered climbing into the sleeppod, knowing she was right behind him, knowing--

He’d known something, once. 

What was it--

▒┼╟»ª╣╝»homecoming▒»╣¥╝¡☺”

Static in his head, like snow. Freezing. He was so cold. Tony’s hands were on him, but he couldn’t see, and if Tony was talking, he couldn’t hear it.

She was coming.

Hydra was coming. 

They’d woken her up, somehow, and she was on her way to claim him.

“You need to run,” Bucky said, hoping Tony could hear him. That he could do something. Anything.

Live.

Run.

Run.

▒»╟┼┴▒½¡╝one▒ªñªú┼╝│

“Tony, run--”

“Freight car.”

Bucky closed his eyes and went away.

The Winter Soldier was here.

“Hail Hydra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragons wouldn't let me post this until I had them out of the cliffhanger territory, so-- yes, more parts are written and they will get posted soon.


	3. Outsider, Outsider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to: Skye_wyr & Fighting_for_Creativity  
> Art by FeignedSobriquet  
> 3023: Square T1 - Headset Image

_Stardate 5239.283.09_

When JARVIS activated the sub-aural communication system, scrolling words across Tony’s field of vision instead of speaking, Tony wasn’t too worried.

After all, they didn’t know this Bucky Barnes guy from Adam.

Well, not true. Tony knew Adam Warlock quite well, in as much as anyone could, in fact, know anyone else. File that, JARVIS, he thought, look up Adam. 

Because the saying must have meant something, right.

But Tony wasn’t worried. Barnes was fresh out of a long sleep, he was disoriented, babbling.

And JARVIS was always just a little more cautious than his maker. Tony wondered where he got that from, since Tony and caution were barely nodding acquaintances.

_Detecting anomalous readings, sir_ , JARVIS typed. _Suspect sub-terminal communications._

_Barnes has hardware installed?_

_Detecting chipping mechanism in spinal region._

Well, that wasn’t new, it was old. Old tech, used to influence people. Ions only knew where it had started, but propaganda was always a thing. Just, in the last sixty years or so, it was made illegal (again, according to what Tony had been able to dig up) to do so in a manner that a victim couldn’t resist. Tricking people into believing their government was always right, that was still unfortunately considered a matter of _caveat emptor._

But as recently as a hundred years ago, chipping had been a manner in which less than moral companies and businesses had installed methods to control people. Sometimes it was subtle. A chip -- which would do any number of other useful things -- would have blackware on it. Sometimes just to buy certain brands of products. Other times, it was… well, more dangerous.

_Override?_

_You’ll need to reach the source, sir. Shut it down on that end. Otherwise, the only method for a rapid recall is cranial realignment._

That was to say, hitting someone in the head really, really hard.

Not ideal.

_Can it be removed?_

Because still, he _liked_ Bucky. Was decidedly attracted to him. He wasn’t even sure why; they’d just barely met, and still, the idea of having to fight him, or even just knock him out, bothered Tony. There was something childlike and innocent about the man, whatever programming was going on in his head.

_I thought true love’s kiss was supposed to break the spell._

_Are we believing in fairy tales now, sir?_

JARVIS could just stuff it, Tony would be petulant if he wanted to be. Bucky was nice, Ions-storm take it. He didn’t deserve whatever was being forced on him.

Although, the longer it went on, the less Tony thought Bucky was aware of what was happening. That he didn’t notice the pauses while he was listening to his programming. It might even have been malfunctioning.

_JARVIS, track down that source._

_Yes sir. I am sending the Mark II combat suit for you._

Tony didn’t so much as wince. He didn’t want to fight Bucky. On the other hand, death was not the preferred outcome either. _Keep it pretty far back, I don’t want him to get triggered into a defensive position._

Tony almost lost his cool entirely when Bucky started talking about the tank of liquid etherium. Etherium was a _theory_ , it wasn’t real. Or so he’d always been told. Of course, he’d also been told that magic spells didn’t exist, and that true love wasn’t real, and that money made the worlds go around.

Okay, so it might have been real, but it wasn’t stable. On the other hand, they’d said the same thing about the energy source for the arc-reactor, and look what he’d done with that.

So, etherium.

Except, based on the way Bucky’s face twitched, there was either something wrong with the etherium, or it was where the source of his subliminals were coming from.

Nothing to do but go forward, though.

_You could run_ , JARVIS suggested.

_You know I won’t do that, buddy._

“Right, show me where this tank is of yours,” Tony said. He knew his mouth kept moving, he was talking with Bucky, being reassuring, he was scrolling with JARVIS, he was planning and plotting. It was a good thing that he’d spent most of his childhood learning to multitask efficiently.

Well, technically, it was time-slicing. Humans, even enhanced ones, were only barely capable of multitasking, but Tony could time-slice like a motherfucker.

Part of his brain was dealing with his companion, who was looking like he was ready to puke or something, another part was drawing on his nanites to give him control over the armor suit that JARVIS had on standby, and by far the largest part was wondering what even, the fuck, was Hydra, and did she have anything to do with the Etherium gas?

Probably.

That just seemed like too much of a coincidence to be dismissable. But coincidence was not causality, he reminded himself.

Just because it seemed like it couldn’t be one without the other, didn’t mean there was any relationship between the Etherium and the monster.

_Whatever_ Hydra was.

The rabbits were--

The rabbits were lining the path. Not so even as to be called rows, but they were-- more and more of them, coming out.

To watch, or to guide, to protect or to attack?

Tony didn’t know. 

Coincidence is not causality.

_I am a man of science. I don’t believe in magic._

_Magic is merely technology which we cannot yet explain._

Despite that, Tony was feeling pretty goddamn superstitious. Like, the rabbits were a good sign, right? He didn’t think he’d ever heard any stories about evil forest animals, even when he was in cradle school.

The lights dimmed as they moved further into the station; Bucky swayed and Tony thought he was going to fall. He swept the man into his arms, unable to do anything else. He couldn’t let Bucky fall.

Tony had always wondered, in those hundreds of stupid holo-films that Rhodey loved so much, why it was the hapless hero or helpless heroine was driven to seek out the monster, the murderer. Wouldn’t it have been much safer to run away, to wait until day, to get reinforcements? But no, there was always some valiant idiot creeping through a dark tunnel, the murdering beast around the very next corner.

And here Tony was, being the exact kind of idiot that he yelled at on the screen.

Compelled, almost. He had to see what was down there, what was… doing this.

And maybe, just maybe, conquer it.

The Evil.

_I am a man of science,_ he insisted. If there’s anything down there, science can explain it.

Tony was vaguely aware that JARVIS is screaming at him. Not just speaking in a sterner voice, not scrolling text across his retina, but actively yelling.

Bucky was also speaking, something ridiculous and useless. 

Tony ignored them both, stepping further into the darkness.

Something was calling him.

Something he couldn’t deny.

“Hail Hydra.”

*

_Stardate 5239.283.09_

JARVIS -- Just Another Rather Very Intelligent System -- was a created intelligence. He was not, in any standard definition of the word, _alive_. He did not have any biological parts, although Mr. Stark had offered on any number of occasions to make a construct that would allow him to experience a fixed form.

JARVIS had always refused. He did not see the need to be flesh and blood, to experience pain, to eat food, or do any of the other messy biological functions. No more than most humans -- or other life forms for that matter -- would see the need to experience true logic, pure calculation.

He was not human. He would never be alive.

He did not, according to many, have a soul.

A soul, JARVIS understood to be, that part of a life form that continued on after the biological form had faded. 

The mind, however, was a complex machine, that operates on the same physical laws as all other objects in the universe. If the soul existed inside the mind, then JARVIS was as ensouled as any living creature. He had a mind. He could think independently. He had obligations and protocol, certain living creatures he was more apt to go above and beyond protocol demands than others. 

It had been a matter up for debate many times; did Artificial Intelligences have their own free will. If they did, could they be punished for using that free will to commit crimes? Or was that burden on their creator? Ultron, Jocasta, the Legions. There were hundreds of examples of AIs that had committed crimes, sometimes on behalf of their creator and sometimes as a rebellion against their creator. And sometimes, it was just faulty programming.

JARVIS had, of course, submitted his own report to the collection of data that was maintained by Enoch, who was the chief librarian of the Chronicoms, an ancient semi-biological, mechanically enhanced race whose purpose was to chronicle all of life and history.

All of this -- which was a mere portion of one cycle of computations, the process that made up JARVIS’s thoughts -- while he was attempting to determine what, _the fuck even_ , was going on.

Sometimes JARVIS thought he’d taken too much of his creator’s personal idiosyncrasies for himself.

In this case, however, if the data fit the drive…

He’d been getting anomalous readings, completely off the charts. If there even were charts for the sorts of readings he was getting. 

A life form-- 

Not human.

Not rabbit.

Not-- not anything JARVIS had encountered before. There were new species protocols, but JARVIS wasn’t a first contact ship’s AI.

He didn’t have the staff aboard to _initiate_ contact.

Technically, by that mandate, he should have left initial contact up to the other party. Preferably evacuating his human crew and their guest, and informing the First Contact Association staff of a potential new species.

JARVIS did not have time for that.

And he was almost sure that the unknown intelligence had contacted Mr. Stark _first_.

JARVIS wasn’t certain _how_ Mr. Stark was being contacted. He could not detect any radio signals or waves. Just the growth of certain gamma radiations. 

JARVIS tapped the station’s computer. It was slow and stubborn, but deep in those databanks might be the answer JARVIS needed. When had the rabbits taken over the station? Did they know anything? Was there any way to communicate with them? They might have been witnesses, generations back. The form didn’t seem to have developed any sort of written or data storage communication.

JARVIS found a set of recordings, vast and untapped.

They’d started about a year after Barnes shut down the station.

Rabbits. Stamping. Their signal, from one beast to the next. Until the entire warren was stamping.

The station computer had recorded it. From the very first time it had happened, until this morning’s rendition when Mr. Stark had boarded the ship.

_Communicating._

The rabbits were _communicating_.

JARVIS examined all the footage. Listened to it. Traced patterns, turned patterns into rhythms and rhythms into song.

The rabbits sang in percussion beats.

And it could be _translated_.

The rabbits thought of themselves as Insiders. The Insiders lived in the station, and everything else was an Outsider.

Mr. Stark was an Outsider. 

They didn’t really see JARVIS at all, didn’t understand that he was there, that he had a presence. To them, he was nothing but noise that followed Mr. Stark around. 

_Outsider, outsider, outsider._

They followed Mr. Stark around, trying to understand in their little rabbity way. He was an Outsider. From Beyond the Door.

They knew what was Beyond the Door. The great Beyond-- the nothingness that froze and killed. 

Before today, they’d never known something could _Come In_.

They knew the Sleeper. 

They knew… the Watcher with Many Arms.

_Hydra._

Another creature, lurking deep in the station. She really almost was the station now, living inside the conduits. A creature with no form, and every form. She was the devil, to rabbit-kin, as the Sleeper was God, kind, patient.

He who had Come In? They weren’t sure what he was.

Who he was.

What his purpose was.

They huddled together, nose to nose, paws barely making a sound. Like a whisper. Outsider, _outsider_.

And Hydra, the watcher, the waiter, she of a thousand eyes. Was watching them.

Had they ever thought they were free from her sight?

Outsider, outsider.

JARVIS slid a portion of his code into the Mark II. Used one metal finger to tap on the wall, imitating their sounds, their language. Their words.

_Outsider listens._

Every single rabbit on the station froze, and as if with a single hive mind, lifted up on their hind legs, one ear twitching.

As if they’d heard the voice of god.

_Outsider._

It started as a whisper, barely audible, until the station rang from their cries.

Mr. Stark and Mr. Barnes barely reacted, caught in their dreaming hallucinations, hearing the voice of Hydra.

_Outsider. Outsider._

JARVIS paused. He was going to make for himself legal difficulties with the FCA and probably most of the various legal governments outside the Ring.

_Listener._ It was a correction. Mr. Stark was the Outsider. JARVIS was the listener. He needed them to understand that he was different; a part of Mr. Stark, yes, but no more the same being than Mr. Stark’s biological child, if he ever had one.

_Listener._

_Listener._

_Listen to me_ JARVIS thudded. _Listen to me. Listen, and give aid. Listener is a friend. The Listener guards your safety and happiness. The Listener guards the Outsiders. The Listener is a friend._

_We listen._


	4. Happily For Now

The thudding of some great and terrible heartbeat surrounded him. He couldn’t see, could hear nothing but that throbbing call. He couldn’t feel anything, wasn’t sure if he was walking or standing. Up was down, gravity was reversed. His entire body was inside out, organs pulsing on the outside of his flesh.

A frantic grab at his chest gave him no feedback-- did he have no body left at all?

He opened his mouth to scream and there was no sound, just that terrible heart, beating. 

He couldn’t breathe.

_I am Iron Man._

That was a concrete thought, something he could cling to. A nickname from his school days, but--

_Iron Man._

_You know who I am._

_Stark Men are Iron._

_Hey, Tones, you know you could be so much more than that--_

_Yes, of course, Master Anthony--_

_Hey, my name’s Tony Stark._

Tony Stark, genius, innovator, scavenger, explorer. Brown eyes, dark hair that curled if he didn’t attack it with a comb. 

Friend to Colonel Rhodes of the Galactic Armada. Owner of Stark Industries, a mid-sized salvage and scavenger company. Designer of the arc-reactor, of genetic-learning machines, energy repulsors.

_I am Iron Man._

Each thought was accompanied by a soft thump, like someone was hitting a ship’s hull with a furry mallet.

_I am Iron Man._

“JARVIS, come to daddy,” Tony ordered, stretching his arms out and calling the suit to him. Whatever was going on, he needed to put a stop to it. He was in danger, every bit of his skin crawling, his pulse racing in his veins, adrenaline making his vision sharper--

He was in a darkened corridor, the man he’d rescued beside him--

Bucky was weeping. Tears rolled from thick, black lashes, and dripped off his chin. “No, no, not again, please, not--”

“NOOOO!”

Bucky reached for a blade, and where in the name of all the Ions did he get a knife at the same time Tony’s suit closed around him.

“JARVIS!”

“Good to have you back, sir,” JARVIS said, calm and quiet in his ear. His steady rock. Without even being directed, JARVIS moved the suit, taking over the fight-- why the hell was Bucky _fighting_ him?

“Analyze fight patterns,” Tony directed, trying to keep his hands wide, defensive, but not aggressive, get the man to back off.

Bucky rained down blows against the suit, his arms more powerful than any human man ought to be, the blade dancing between his fingers, ringing against the armor.

Tony blasted him with the repulsor; it was a defensive move, designed to blow people over, to cause their head to swim and ears to ring. Disorienting, uncomfortable, not lethal.

Bucky barely paused, knocking Tony backward, again and again until he was pressed against the hull.

“JARVIS, what the hell is going on?”

“According to my readings, sir,” JARVIS said, “and information close to the source, Mr. Barnes is being controlled by an alien life force.”

“Life-- force?”

That was an interesting word.

“As far as I can detect, the life force doesn’t inhabit a physical form in this dimension, sir,” JARVIS informed him. 

“A non-physical form?”

“By all accounts to date, yes,” JARVIS said.

“What accounts?”

“The rabbits, sir,” JARVIS said.

Outside the armor, Bucky shuddered and fell to his knees. There was a counterpoint thudding, something that etched the line.

Tony didn’t bother to wait for the extended explanation. Bucky wasn’t fighting him anymore, whatever it was this extra-dimensional thing was doing, they could do it once he was away and free. Tony grabbed Bucky around the waist and slung him into a fireman’s carry. “Tell me you have an extraction plan for us--”

“And the rabbits, yes sir,” JARVIS said. “They’re going to disrupt the entity’s psychic influence long enough to get you both back to the ship.”

“Great, engines hot, right pal?”

The thudding continued and a line of text scrolled across Tony’s vision. _Outsider, outsider._

“Are you-- translating for them?”

“Yes, sir. Their language is on the surface simplistic, containing less than fifty-thousand distinct word-phrases, that are then amplified to nuance by posture, pheromones, and speed of communication. It’s quite poetic, really.”

“Write a book on it later,” Tony said, staggering. Even with the suit, Bucky was _so heavy_. He shouldn’t be exhausted, but a quick glance at his vitals showed elevated respiration, blood pressure, but slower heart rate. In fact, his heart was beating in time with the extra-dimensional life force.

“That’s not terrifying at all,” Tony said. “The suit’s protecting me?”

“I’m running subaudible disruptions through the suit’s skin to keep your mind free of the entity’s influence.”

They couldn’t give Bucky a suit; he didn’t have the nanintes in his system to run one, and while it might free his mind just to close it around him, he’d just be an extra three hundred pounds for Tony to carry.

“Not much further, sir,” JARVIS said, an encouraging voice in his ear. Tony couldn’t see through the tears, the way his eyes felt like they were melting in his skull. Visual input wasn’t impaired, according to JARVIS’s readouts, but Tony wasn’t being able to understand what he was seeing.

It was so dark.

And the rabbits were like spirits, racing through the space station, stopping from time to time to keep the beat going, like a drumming chorus, sustaining an impossible note simply because of their vast numbers.

“We’re being saved by the bunnies,” Tony said, staggering up the ramp and onto his ship. The hold was full of rabbits, all looking at him with wise, knowing eyes. “No. I-- I may have to nope right out of this.”

He didn’t even manage to get Bucky to the medical cot, dropping the man onto a relatively rabbit-free spot in the lounge. He was pushing a crowd of rabbits out of the way with every step as he staggered toward the cockpit.

One of the rabbits was sitting in the pilot’s couch. 

“I don’t care how smart you are,” Tony said. “That’s my seat.”

_Greetings, outsider._

“Yeah, hi there,” Tony said. “Move, so we can get out of this place? If that meets with your approval.”

The rabbit hopped down, but as soon as Tony’s ass was in the seat and the restraint system strapped across his chest, it was right back up there. In his lap.

_Great_. And he thought it was the cat that was killed by curiosity.

“JARVIS, tell me they’re all aboard,” Tony said. He didn’t want to leave anything behind. “And where’s my mine-package?”

“Sir?”

“The glass arrow packet. It wouldn’t have reached the sun already, let’s go get it and give it a nudge home, yeah?”

“You’re gonna blow up the station?” Bucky murmured. He wasn’t looking too good, but at least he was on his feet.

“That’s the plan,” Tony said. “I get a lot of mileage out of blowing shit up.”

“We’re ready to launch,” JARVIS reported. “All life forms aboard.”

“Seal her up, and you sit down before you fall,” Tony said. Bucky fumbled with the belt for a moment, before figuring out the mechanism.

“The etherium canisters are ready for pickup. Getting a lock on the glass arrows.”

“Sir,” JARVIS said, “may I remind you that FCA policies--”

“I have read those policies, JARVIS,” Tony snapped, “and nowhere in them are non-physical extra-dimensional manifestations covered. Pretty sure the Council will give me a bye on blowing up a demon.” Which didn’t even count the fact that Tony would be hauling a galactic fortune, and it was unlikely that anyone was going to object.

“Can you blow it up?” Bucky wondered. “If she’s not physically manifesting, will it do any good to blow up the station?”

“Great, something else to worry about,” Tony said.

“I’m reading limited range into this dimension, sir,” JARVIS said as the craft sped away from the station. “There’s never been a report of this being outside the Ring.”

“Well, good, she can fucking stay there,” Bucky said. “Blow it up. As the last known survivor of the Ring station, I give you permission.”

“Pretty sure that’s not gonna hold up in court,” Tony said, fingers already on the boards, maneuvering them around the glass arrow packet. Just a little nudge. The ship made the slightest click, a shiver through the hull, and then the package was on the way back to mama.

Tony hit the thrusters. “Gimme rear screens,” he said, checking his math. They’d still need to get outside the blast radius before he activated the FTL -- the last thing anyone needed was high-speed debris coming in with him. There weren’t planetary shields that good anywhere in the known galaxy, and there were too many jumps between him and the nearest abandoned set of coords. 

Running faster than light needed very, very good math, and a little bit of luck. People didn’t fuck around with it. The ones that did, well, they didn’t live long enough to tell their second grade math teacher that they forgot to carry the 4.

Like the haze that rose from hot pavement on a sunny day, there was something around the station. A miasma of rage and hate and longing. 

“Is that--”

“Hydra. The witch,” Bucky said, and they both watched the rear screen, helpless to look away, as the packet of glass arrows sped toward the station.

The explosion was blinding.

For a long moment, there was no sound -- in space, no one can hear you scream -- and then there was--

An incredible, ship-shuddering shriek, the pain of a thousand dying suns, the rage of the beaten, still grabbing out with a way to save themselves.

Tony found himself sobbing helplessly.

Bucky’s hand was on his, and he twined their fingers together. Comfort, in another human soul.

_The watcher has died._

The rabbit tapped a rear paw against the floor and JARVIS threw up the translation.

“I’m having a C3-PO moment here,” Bucky said, shaking his head. He took a few shuddering breaths. “The robot god translating for little fluffy creatures.”

“I know who Threepio is,” Tony said. “That myth’s been around since before space travel.”

“Good to know the best things in the galaxy have survived. We used to hear the story at bed time.”

Tony navigated the ship outside the Ring. “Jump to FTL, please, JARIVS. Take us home.”

“Yes sir.”

Bucky squeezed Tony’s hand. “And they lived happily ever after.”

Tony managed a chuckle at that. They probably wouldn’t. There would be endless depositions and reports, lawyers to hire, corporate shell companies to form. Work to be done, and people who’d want to take it from them. He looked up at Bucky’s face, beautiful, even in his grief.

Well, happily for now. It was a start.

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies; this end note was originally at the end of Chapter One. I am not currently planning a sequel story. sorry for the confusion


End file.
